“Me too,” he admitted. “The men are nearly done eating. Good soup, by the way. Split pea and ham always sticks to the ribs.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it. There will be more of your favorites for supper.”
She left him and hurried back into the deckhouse as the wind once again picked up. Depositing her coat and hat on a peg, she heard the men’s various comments on the good lunch as they headed out the door. She’d barely reached the stove when a wave sent the nearly empty coffeepot sliding. Elise easily caught it, and Tom applauded.
“Looks like we’re in for fun,” he said, getting up from the table. “I’d best see if the captain needs me.”
Nick was the last to go. He pulled on his knit cap and threw her a smile. “Lunch was wonderful. I feel I can face the dropping temperatures and gusting winds now.”
She laughed and gave him a salute. “It’s great to be appreciated. Which brings me to something I wanted to say to you. The way you handled things in Chicago really impressed me. Papa hates sailing into Chicago. He avoids it like the plague. You just did it with matter-of-fact grace.”
Nick’s face sobered. “I was plenty worried. Not having been there for six months makes a big difference. They’ve already rebuilt a lot from last year’s fire. I was impressed by how much something could change in such a short time.”
“Well, I thought it might have been hard sailing there again because of ... well, what happened with thePolaris. I worried it might have caused you pain.”
He nodded. “I didn’t realize anyone else would even think of it. It was hard, but keeping busy and praying helped a great deal.”
“I prayed for you too, but maybe next time you might talk to me.” She smiled. “We all have our ghosts, Nick. Our regrets, our sorrows. I find they’re handled easiest when sharing the burden with someone else.”
He gave her a tender look. “Thank you. I’ll remember that.”
The moment tied her inexplicably to him. “Well, I was still impressed with the way you maneuvered Chicago ports. You made it look easy.”
His smile returned, and the ghosts faded away. “It was all done just to impress you.”
Elise chuckled and started making another pot of coffee. “Then you accomplished what you set out to do.”
He gave a mock bow and headed out of the deckhouse. Elise couldn’t help laughing all the more. He made her days better in every way.
That thought made her sober in an instant. Mama used to say that about Papa. The memory made her heart skip a beat.
A supper of pork roasts with onions and yams baked in the oven while Elise took on her mending. There was quite a bit of it. Four torn shirt sleeves, two frayed collars, a pair of pants with the backside ripped out, and Tom’s good trousers that were in desperate need of the hem being let out. He was growing like a weed.
She settled down in her cabin to sew, mindful of the time. The stove would need to be loaded with wood from time to time in order for everything to cook through. Not only that, but she needed to keep an eye on the coffee and make sure there was plenty. Thankfully, the waters were fairly calm.
On deck, Elise could hear her father calling out commands. At one point the men were singing as they sometimes did, depending on the task at hand. Ollie said the music helped make the chores pass more quickly, while Booker Duran called it caterwauling that was enough to make a grown man cry. It seemed there was very little that Duran liked.
Thinking of Duran brought back her previous concerns. What if they did have a murderer on board? She vowed to talk to her father when the first opportunity presented itself.
Mending sails was never a favorite job of Booker Duran. He always did whatever he could to get out of it—even volunteering to do extra cleaning duty. Unfortunately, he’d had enough of that as well.
The night before, he’d started to go for a drink in Duluth but then had seen the signs posted all over with descriptions of Rummy Carlson’s killer. The height and weight listed was too closely a match for his own. It was enough to send him back to theMary Eliseto rethink his plans. The witness hadn’t been close enough to get a real look at him. Not like the witnesses in Buffalo, who had described Duran right down to the scar on his chin. Yet another reason for his full beard and mustache. It had totally changed his appearance. He barely recognized himself in the mirror and felt certain the beard would keep the law fromsingling him out. But a fella couldn’t change his height. Thankfully, Duluth was full of big-shouldered Dutchmen and Swedes. He wasn’t the only large man around these parts.
He wasn’t all that worried about either murder except for the fact that Elise Wright knew about his bloody shirt. He’d given her a good enough excuse. Men got in fights all the time, and weeks had gone by. As for the murder in Buffalo, even more time had passed for that matter to have died down. The dead man was a nobody—just a cardplayer who’d gotten out of hand. They’d both had knives, and the other man had threatened him. It shouldn’t matter that Duran had pulled his knife first. The man brandished a weapon, and Duran had to take care of himself or the fella would have killed him.
“You done with that jib?” the captain questioned.
Duran got to his feet. “Just about, Captain. I was never very good at repairing sails.”
For several long moments, Captain Wright just stared at him. “What are you good at?”
This sobered Duran. He felt his temper rise. “I’m good at a lot of things, Captain, and strong as an ox. You know full well I can trim a load in no time at all.”
“That’s true enough. It just seems you have no interest in much of anything on theMary Elise. You’re still bickering with the men, although you did purchase Tom another harmonica.”
Booker grimaced. He had hated having to spend his hard-earned money on that boy’s enjoyment, but leave it to Nick Clark to remind him. “I was happy to do it. It weren’t right that I lost my temper with the boy.”
“No, it wasn’t. Most of the men have made complaints aboutyou and the way you’ve treated them. Not a one of them trusts you.”
